The Girl Who Mattered
by thatholmesyfeeling
Summary: Caroline Wilson seems very ordinary, but even an ordinary person has the power to change history, even if its just the life of another. Sherlock currently cares for very few people, he can count them on one hand, can he learn to let someone into his heart? And can he keep them forever?
1. Chapter 1: A New Case

Hey guys! So I have actually never written anything like this before, I have read things like this and decided I would try my hand at it, I'm going to try not dragging everything out because that always bothers me, when there is too many details and not enough story. Please let me know if you want me to describe things more because I'm really not sure! Thank you so much for reading and please review. Also please spell check :)

Chapter 1: A New Case

It all began on a quite fall day in flat 221b, where the famous detective, Sherlock Holmes, and his flat-mate, John Watson the ex-army doctor, resided.

It was Thursday and everyone was already quite eager to get their week over with, everyone but Sherlock Holmes that is, all he wanted was a new case, as he got very bored very quickly without them. He has been quoted as saying "my brain rots without the work," and so it seemed, as he often reverted to the sulky attitude of a child who has been told that they cannot have ice cream for every meal of the day, and whenever this happened, he made sure that everyone knew about it.

So it was on this day that Sherlock and John's most recent adventure began, with John away at work and Sherlock looking desperately for a case, when the man in question received this message from his older brother:

Dearest Sherlock,

Do not think I have not noticed the lack of cases you have.

As I wish that John not leave you, I shall provide you with one.

I believe you will find this quite intriguing.

-Mycroft Holmes

Immediately the younger Holmes was interested, typically when Sherlock was bored Mycroft was more than willing to let him wallow in his own misery, and in fact, Sherlock was very, very, bored. He had not had a case in more than a week and was quite eager for a new challenge to arise.


	2. Chapter 2: The Missing Daughter

Chapter 2: The Missing Daughter

Sherlock's POV

I started texting John before I even got in the car with Anthea, excited that I had something to do other than putting infected fingers in chloric acid target practice on our walls, well Mrs. Hudson's walls but she can put it on our rent.

_We have a case- SH_

_Oh?-JW_

_It's from Mycroft, but I'll take anything at this point-SH_

_Keep me updated- JW_

_Of course John, I'd be lost without my blogger-SH_

The rest of the ride was spent in silence.

The car pulled up before Mycroft's office and I got out, knowing where to find my elder brother. Hopping on the elevator then making my way through a lounge area filled with the incompetent old fogeys that happened to run the government and into Mycroft's office. The décor was terribly plain and nothing had changed inside it since the 18th century, Mycroft never had good taste.

Mycroft looked up at me from the papers he was reading and gave an obviously false smile while gesturing to one of the plush leather chairs situated in front of his mahogany desk. I rolled my eyes and flopped down onto one, sitting with my legs thrown over the side of one arm while my back was leaning against the other. My brother looked at me with distaste in his eyes and I smirked. Irritating my brother was just too easy.

"What is it Mycroft?"

Glaring at me he cleared his throat and began. "Well, let's just skip the pleasantries then," eying me as if I were some sort of insect.

"About twenty-five years ago there was an American couple, by the names of Henry and Katheryn Moore, who worked as a plainclothes government agents as… spies… of sorts. They discovered secrets that a certain global crime ring didn't want discovered and they set after them. Because of the secrets they knew, Henry and Katheryn were to be relocated from the United States to England along with their young daughter and given alias' by the government to start a new life, but the Moores were found out and captured before the move, both of them were tortured until they died for what they knew. Their daughter, who was about one year old, was never found." Mycroft paused in his narration, and glanced at me before moving on. "And we never got all of the information that they had."

"We have reason to believe that the child's parents knew they were going to get caught and arranged for their daughter to be sent away, along with clues on how to gain access to the information that Katheryn died getting, but we never discovered where the child was until now. Sherlock, you are going to America."

I snorted, interrupting Mycroft's spiel, and he raised his eyebrows looking at me pointedly.

"Sherlock, Katheryn Moore had information about the crime ring that would later become Moriarty's network."

Ok, that got me. This could give us clues as to where pieces of the ring operated and how they worked. Yes, this was good, very, very, good.

Nonchalantly I replied "I _suppose _I'll take the case Mycroft, now when do we leave?"

Mycroft nodded, clearly pleased and handed me a thick file, "You're flight shall leave at 7 o'clock sharp tomorrow morning, do I need to pick you up?"

I responded with the best eye roll I could give and slid out of my chair, grabbing the manila folder and exiting without another word as Mycroft called out "Good luck little brother." It was all I could do not laugh.

…..

I spent the next three hours poring over the folder, the women in question was Caroline Emilia Moore, age 28, residing in Brooklyn, New York. She worked as a criminal profiler, very boring stuff really but her history was interesting enough. Caroline was born in Chicago Illinois but only lived there for her first few years until her parents died and they sent her away. She then lived in foster care for a few years until she was adopted by the Wilson family, and looking at her records, she was a trouble child, hmmm interesting… When John arrived back at the flat I informed him of our trip and we both proceeded to get ready for our journey.


	3. Chapter 3: Uncomfortable Stares

Chapter 3: Staring

Caroline's POV

It was Saturday morning, I lived for the weekends, I love my job, but there is something about working in a little restaurant that just fills you with contentment. I was trying to reach the coffee filters on the top shelf when the two of them came in. My brother David had gotten me a special stool to use to reach things but I didn't like using it, it made me feel short. It was hot pink and covered in glitter because David, ever the people pleaser, had let his two daughters, Hannah, 6, and Lucy, 4, decorate it; I only used it when they were around.

After I had gotten the filters down I looked around, my eyes stopping on the two men who had entered a few moments ago. David's wife, Anna, was taking their orders. One of them, the blonde one, seemed amiable enough, he had a smile on his face and it seemed he was apologizing for his friend's behavior. He also wore a green shirt with a cardigan thrown over it, he was fairly short, but he was still several inches taller than I was, but that really isn't hard to do. He seemed friendly and sweet.

The blonde's partner was a stark contrast to him. He was about six feet tall and wore a long black coat with a blue scarf. He was also dressed in a very nice suit and was looking around the restaurant with a critical glare. His hair was a dark brown and very curly, he also had very prominent cheekbones and rather stunning silvery blue eyes. He was one of those people who could be a model and had the wonderful talent of making me feel very inadequate. As attractive as he was though, he gave off a cold air and was rather intimidating.

I sighed as Anna gave me their order: two coffees, one black, two sugars, and another with cream, and finally the fettuccini alfredo. I went to prepare the fettuccini, presumably the shorter ones and came out with it a few minutes later along with both of their coffees and passed them off to Anna again.

I might have been paranoid, but it seemed as if both of them were looking at me the entire time they sat there. The blonde was a little more subtle about it and looked away whenever I glanced at them, but the brunette had no regard for me at all, it was not a little embarrassing. After a while David noticed and after another few minutes of them still staring he was seething. I could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

"Are you seeing this?" He hissed giving a pointed glare at the two men. The shorter of the two blushed and looked away but the tall one just raised an eyebrow.

"Yes" I sighed.

"Screw this" He muttered and marched off to their table while I looked off opened mouthed at what I knew was going to happen. How embarrassing.

"Do you realize how obvious your stares are?" David practically shouted.

"Hmm, yes I do, I was not making a point in trying to hide them," The brunette answered.

David was seething and looked as if he was going to begin foaming at the mouth as he yelled, "You can either stop staring at my little sister or you can get out and never come back."

Oh. My. Gosh. This is not happening. Everyone will know about this by tomorrow, two of my best friends were sitting in the corner and were alternately looking at the three men and me. This was just mortifying.

The blonde stuttered and tried to explain but was cut off by the taller of them.

"I suppose we must explain then. My name is Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective for New Scotland Yard and this is my blogger, John Watson. We have been hired for a case involving your sister, Caroline."


	4. Chapter 4: Deductions

Chapter 4: Deductions

Sherlock's POV

The girl, Caroline, looked absolutely mortified during the entire encounter, but the expression on her face when her brother confronted John and I was priceless. I smirked at what appeared to be her brother standing before me. He was yelling at the both of us and John looked completely lost as to what to say so I simply took over.

"I suppose we must explain then. My name is Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective for New Scotland Yard and this is my blogger, John Watson. We have been hired for a case involving your sister, Caroline."

Caroline's brother, David, if his name tag was correct stared at me. "Prove it" he said.

I rolled my eyes and began my deductions, well some of them I knew from the case file but he didn't have to know that.

"Your name is David Wilson, married to Anna Wilson, you have owned this restaurant for five, no six years, all your life you have loved to cook so you saved up to buy your own place. Your wife works as your waitress and you also employ some of your younger siblings here. Caroline works during the week but helps on weekends. You have two young daughters that you try to accommodate the best you can but much of your time is spent here. You are happily married and as in love with your wife as the day you got married. You were adopted after years in foster care into a family that steadily grew and now you have 5 younger siblings including Caroline. You don't have a lot of money but you take good care of what you own. Every day you walk to work and it was raining heavily this morning, you were splashed by cars multiple times on your daily commute, you were also running late this morning and ended spilling up spilling your breakfast in the rush. Speaking of breakfast you had scrambled eggs and toast along with your daily coffee, and on that note I wish for a refill."

Caroline quickly rushed to get more while David stared at me. "Alright, I believe you, but if you do anything to hurt her, your dead." And with that he walked off, nodding to Caroline as she returned, filling my cup again.

John stared at her awkwardly. She really was an attractive woman as far as attractiveness goes. She was very short, I'd say, about five feet two inches. Her hair was a chestnut brown and was pinned at the sides with curly waves that reached the middle of her back. She had wide blue eyes that were shaped in a way that suggested she was sad; I believe John would call them "puppy dog eyes." She had a small mouth, with a lower lip that was considerably bigger that her upper, suggesting the sad look even more. She had a round face but was not fat; she had an average size forehead and a more prominent nose, but not unattractively so. She was bigger but not obese, more curvy. I would judge her measurements, which I know I can do after Irene Adler, to be 39, 29, and 40; bust waist hips.

She squirmed uncomfortably under my gaze, "Well, um, so you said I was uh, part of a case?" She said softly.

"Ah yes, we shall come by your apartment later on this evening to debrief you. How does 6 o'clock sound?" I said.

"Um, I kind of had a date, but we can always reschedule…"

"Good, come John," I swiftly downed the rest of my coffee, burning my tongue a little and we left the little restaurant, leaving a very confused Caroline in our wake.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry its been so long! We've been having computer issues lately that I hope have been completely resolve, anywho this chapter is a little bit longer, I'm not sure if I'll keep the chapters this length or not, I'll figure it out on the way. I hope you like it! I'll try to have another update by Wednesday.**

Chapter 5: Caroline's House

John's POV

We arrived at Caroline's flat promptly at 6:00 that evening. She opened the door for us warily, eying us as she ushered us into her living room. It was a quaint little place, you could obviously tell she wasn't one for overly feminine things. The couch was a dark blue and made of velvet with white and green pillows. The furniture was a dark brown and the fire was going. The décor was sparse but nice.

She then led us into the dining room, which had a similar color scheme, but had much more white in it, the walls were white and lined with bookcases, there was a black tile floor. The table was also white, it was boxy and modern with alternating military green and deep blue plush chairs. Three of these chairs were set with clean white plates with silver rims, silverware lined the plates on both sides and there was both a wine glass and a water glass at each table setting. An electric silver chandelier hung above the table illuminating the entire scene, glinting off of the metallic table settings.

We all sat down, Sherlock and I on one side of the table, and Caroline on the other. The food smelled delicious, it was some sort of Italian pasta with a side of cooked bean pods. As soon as we were seated, Sherlock began.

"Miss Wilson, as we all know you are adopted, may I ask if you know the reason as to why your birth parents gave you up?"

She looked at Sherlock suspiciously and started, "There was a car accident-"

"Wrong! Your parents were spies for the American government!" Sherlock said in a self-satisfied way that only he could manage. He looked across the table at Caroline with a self-assured smile to see how she was taking this information.

"Wait, what?" She said, looking very confused. "No the agency said-"

"The agency lied!" Sherlock interrupted, "your parents found out information about a global crime syndicate and before they could be relocated the syndicate tracked them down and killed them." Sherlock rambled on excitedly, "your parents knew it was too late and pulled some strings to send you away, but not before leaving clues as to where they stored this information." Sherlock grinned at the poor girl sitting across from him, she looked absolutely stunned, and not a little horrified at the thought.

"So, tell us everything you think you know about your parents and everything they left you! How much money was it anyway? You obviously could never afford any of this on your own."

Caroline just sat there, looking at the both of them, "Who set you up to this?" she began, beginning to look very angry, "was it Austin? It was Austin wasn't it, Austin and Katarina it was them."

"Miss Wilson-"

"Its Caroline!" She practically snarled.

"Caroline no one set this up, I do not _joke_" Sherlock said the last word distastefully, as if it were poison in his mouth."

"Oh," she said, "Well your right, my birth parents were very wealthy and left all of their money to me once I turned eighteen. They also gave me this," she said taking off her necklace and handing it to us. Sherlock grabbed it before I could and began to examine it.

"A skeleton key," I said, "any idea what it goes to?"

"No, there was a note with it though, I could never quite figure it out, I believe its some kind of clue as to where whatever this unlocks is."

"You're right," Sherlock said, looking over the note, it was neatly folded and on one side it said;

_"Last words for our little Caroline, always remember our song"_

He then opened it up, inside it said;

_Darling Jacques, _

_If you will_

_Remember our city_

_Oh place I dream of_

_I dream of my love_

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. "I thought her husband's name was Henry?"

"Yah, that was my dad's name, I don't know, I just don't think my mother would leave me an item that she apparently was planning on giving to a lover, it doesn't make sense. And I don't know anyone named Jacques and I wouldn't know if my parents did either." Caroline said disparingly.

"She wouldn't, this was deliberate. Caroline, let me see the will." Sherlock said, absent mindedly, deep in thought."

Caroline nodded, getting up. "The word choice is funny and I figured out what she meant by 'last words,' if you take the last word of each line written, its Jacques, will, city, of, love, the city of love is Paris but nothing else makes sense." She said, returning with the will. "I've gone through it so many times, but there is simply nothing there! No mention of who Jacques is or an address or anything!" She was getting a little riled up so I tried to sooth her.

"Don't worry, Sherlock can solve anything, he can look at a crime scene and tell you everything about a criminal he-" I was suddenly interrupted and Caroline and I looked up at Sherlock startledly as he yelled,

"We're going to Paris!


End file.
